


too old to be so shy

by growlery writes (growlery)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Makeup, very vague d/s vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery%20writes
Summary: "I don't need to wear it to know how to use it," she says, rolling her eyes at him. "I told you to hold still."





	too old to be so shy

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _judge_ from table #3 of [100prompts](https://100prompts.dreamwidth.org/).

"Should I close my eyes?" Bellamy asks, and Raven hums. 

"If you want," she says. "I'll tell you if I need you to. Just, hold still, okay? I don't wanna make a mess."

Bellamy swallows. Raven's holding a mascara wand with the same ease as her welding tools, looking Bellamy over with the same intensity she has for her projects. It's kind of a lot to have focused just on him. 

It might be easier, for him, if he didn't have to see, but he can't make himself look away. 

"It's already gonna be a mess," he says dryly. "You don't even wear makeup."

"I don't need to wear it to know how to use it," she says, rolling her eyes at him. "I told you to hold still."

With her free hand, she grasps Bellamy's shoulder and holds it firm. Bellamy immediately relaxes into it, and if Raven notices, all she says is, "Good," and, "Try not to blink, either."

Bellamy does his best. He's worn mascara often enough to be ready for the brush on his lashes. What he's not ready for is Raven's face so close to his, a small crease between her eyebrows that he wants to thumb away. 

He blinks, right onto the brush, feels it below his eyes. Raven heaves a sigh and steps back. 

"Sorry," Bellamy says, and he is. He did his best. It just wasn't enough. 

Raven comes back with a wet cloth and dabs around his eyes, so gentle his eyes flutter shut. "It's okay," she says. "I fixed it."

He's better, this time. He only blinks when she tells him to, stays perfectly still. 

"Good," she says, and Bellamy's breathing evens out. "Close your eyes, Bell."

Something brushes across his eyelids in patterns he can't follow, so he stops trying to. Raven draws a thin line right by his eyelashes, and Bellamy wants to open his eyes, but she hasn't said he can, yet. His breathing is still even. 

"You can look now," Raven says, her voice soft, and Bellamy does, blinking a little. 

"How do I look?" he asks; it comes out a lot more serious than he meant it to. 

Raven doesn't laugh at him, or look at him funny. She keeps his gaze and says, "Good."

Bellamy breathes out. Raven turns away, and when she turns back, she's holding several tubes of lipstick in her palms. 

"What do you fancy?" she asks, and Bellamy shrugs. 

"You choose," he says. 

Raven picks out a deep red that she painstakingly applies to Bellamy's lips, and if Bellamy thought it was a lot before, it's nothing compared to the way she's focused on his mouth, holding it open with a hand on his jaw. 

She pulls back after what feels like an eternity and no time at all. "Really good," she says, and her voice is a little hoarse. "Do you wanna see?"

Bellamy nods. Raven comes back with a mirror. Bellamy's never liked seeing his reflection; he sees only flaws, only things he needs to fix. But this reflection isn't him. Wide, smoky eyes, sharpened cheekbones, full red mouth. Bellamy smiles, watches the face change. 

"Wow," he says. 

"So fucking vain," Raven says, and she sounds nothing but fond. "You're welcome, dude."

She's not standing so close any more, and Bellamy doesn't have to watch his breathing any more, but he misses it, misses being able to feel the heat radiating off Raven's body. 

"Thanks," he says, and Raven smiles.


End file.
